


i've done some things that i can't speak

by cherrykirsch



Series: demons, magic and sage, oh my! [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (just a little but i'd rather tag it and be safe), Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternately Titled: Yachi and Tanaka Accidentally Summon a Demon, Blood Magic, Body Horror, Choking, Consensual Kissing, Dark Magic, Demon Deals, Demons, F/M, Love Confessions, Mild Blood, Nature Magic, Spells & Enchantments, Stabbing, Symbolism, Tenderness, Witch Curses, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-09-02 10:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16784812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrykirsch/pseuds/cherrykirsch
Summary: Tanaka finds Yachi sobbing beneath twin apple trees, covered in dirt and knelt over a body half in the dirt and half out.The rest is history.





	i've done some things that i can't speak

Tanaka finds Yachi sobbing beneath twin apple trees, covered in dirt and knelt over a body half in the dirt and half out. She has sprinkled sage in front of her, for protection, but she still trembles as she scoops handfuls of dirt over the body and when Tanaka approaches she looks up at him, eyes brimming with thick tears and her bottom lip wobbling.

“I…” Yachi begins, scrambling from behind her line of sage to grasp at Tanaka’s jeans. “It was just meant to be a banishment spell! It… I… he wasn’t… wasn’t meant to… _die_ …”

Tanaka takes her arms and hauls her to his feet, tucking her gently in his arms as he hugs her close. She sobs harder and fists a hand into the front of his shirt, grips onto him and trembles so violently he feels like she’s going to shatter as he surveys the scene in front of him.

He can smell the rain and the dirt, the scent of apple trees and life, but he can’t smell death.

“He’s not dead.” Tanaka tells her softly and Yachi claps a hand over her mouth, horrified as she looks down at the man in the grave, at his distant, milky eyes and she tries to steady herself. “You don’t specialize in curses, probably just got something mixed up and banished him from… well, his body.”

Yachi takes a small step away from him. “It was tea…” She tells him, her voice shaking. “Peppermint… cayenne and cinnamon, salt… in my crystal glass. Oh, god, Ryuu… I was just trying to get him to leave me alone, I didn’t mean to…”

He catches her before she can topple over and into the three-foot-deep hole, and turns her to face him. She is a picture of a mess, her hair knotted and frizzy, her face red and stained with tears, smudged with dirt, he takes a sachet of lavender from his pocket and presses it into her hand.

“We’re going to fix this. Get the wheelbarrow.” He tells her and Yachi nods quickly and stumbles towards the wheelbarrow as Tanaka bends over into the hole and heaves the body up and into his arms. He struggles with the weight and then drops the body unceremoniously into the wheelbarrow when Yachi pushes it up to his side, hopes he hasn’t broken the guy’s ribs.

“Now,” he begins breathlessly. “We’re going to go back to the house and throw up some wards, and I’m going to borrow your books and we’ll fix this.”

Yachi nods and then bites her lip, squeezes her eyes shut and tries not to start crying again. “I’m sorry… I… I didn’t mean…” She lapses into silence and then furiously swipes her fingers under her eyes and breathes deeply. “Let’s fix it.” She says finally, quietly, and then she reaches into her patchwork dress pocket and throws salt over her shoulder and into the hole.

There’s something final about Yachi’s words, and Tanaka shivers.

He takes the wheelbarrow and begins to push it back towards Yachi’s cottage, the ominous golden glow just across the orchard from them, should be simple enough. But it’s not. The wheels catch craggy stones and Yachi guides him around her moon ponds and herbs gardens, he jerks whenever the wheelbarrow jolts and Yachi is beside him, her hand clutching the lavender sachet holding his bicep.

His arm is warm, a contrast to the chill of the night air, and the blood moon shines high above them. He tries to ignore it as a drop of sweat rolls down his back.

After a couple of minutes of struggling, Tanaka hauls the body from the wheelbarrow and Yachi unlocks her door with trembling fingers and holds it open for him. The inside of her home is rich with heat and the scent of herbs, and they overflow from her windows and sink and cascade and curl towards her as she hurries into the kitchen and moves everything from the kitchen island onto the countertops.

She pats it twice, and it drops, hovering just at waist level. Tanaka takes this as his queue to place the body on top of it.

It doesn’t take long for him to get hot with the fire roaring in the living room and the exertion of carrying a body, and Tanaka feels himself growing steadily hotter, tugging at the collar of his shirt and looking around for some sense of cool. He turns to Yachi in desperation to ask if he can remove his shirt and stops, because Yachi has her bare back turned to him and her clothes in her arms.

He finds himself staring at the curve of her shoulder and stops himself, jerking his head away. It’s wrong to stare at her when she doesn’t know, unaware, and he’d hate to have something she does not know.

“Yachi can I take off my shirt?” He asks very loudly, and he winces at the sound and how he hears Yachi jump in surprise and squeak. “I… sorry…” he says softly.

He hears Yachi move and the crinkle of fabric, and then he dares to look at her again, sighing in relief when he sees her covered in slip-on silky blue dress. She flushes as she looks up at him. “I… yes!” She squeaks, and then she starts edging towards the kitchen. “I’m… going to get my book…”

She quickly turns and ducks beneath the counter, and the sound of clattering glass and pans fill his ears, and Tanaka takes the opportunity to shrug off his shirt. With a cry, Yachi jumps up from behind the kitchen island, a thick leather-bound book clutched to her chest and a smile on her face, though when she looks to Tanaka her mouth falls gently open and her cheeks flush.

It takes everything in her to press the book over her face and then approach him, pressing it against his bare chest and squeaking when her fingers meet his hot skin.

“It’s…” Yachi begins, looks resolutely down at her feet. “Page… 215.”

Tanaka takes the book gently and tries not to flush when their hands brush, flipping to page 215 as Yachi begins scampering around gathering candles that she arranges around the body, lighting them with a single match. As Tanaka begins to struggle juggling the book and the crystal bowl of ingredients, Yachi approaches and taps the book twice, startling him as the book begins to levitate beside him.

He gives her a half-smile that she returns, and then she pours a jug of moon water and salt into the crystal bowl as Tanaka crushes mint leaves and rose petals into dust in his hand and dumps them in, Yachi watches in wonder as the water glitters and then takes the bowl in her hands and concentrates hard, her nose wrinkling.

A vine from the kitchen curls down the counter and across the floor towards Yachi, it curls up her ankle and then over her dress towards her fingers, where a single dandelion sprouts around her wrist. She plucks it and drops it into the bowl, and then she dips her fingers into it and splatters the water at her fingertips over the body.

Yachi frowns as the water sizzles when it hits his skin, she clutches the bowl close to her chest, watching as purple, raised marks like spider’s legs begin to crawl across his skin.

“That isn’t good.” She says.

Tanaka shakes his head and steps towards the body. “It isn’t.” He agrees and then he turns to her. “Get me a marker, please, Yacchan. I need chalk and needles too, and more of your herbs, can you brew me something?”

Yachi nods and hurries into the kitchen, the bowl hovering where she once was, digging into her drawer for a marker and needles. She hands them to him as she passes, and then going into the living room for chalk, when she returns he points her towards the kitchen.

“I need you to put sigils around the side of the table, please, just anything that will protect us.” He says and Yachi kneels and begins scrawling on the side of her kitchen island, muttering incantations to herself as she does so. Even from where he’s standing he can feel pure power rolling off her in waves, and it makes him stumble back a little. “Good. That’s… good.”

As Yachi moves around the kitchen island, Tanaka approaches the body and uncaps the marker. He strips off the guy’s shirt and draws a pentagram on his chest in permanent blocky black ink, complete with his own sigils, this time for invoking spirit, and hopes that his power won’t counteract Yachi’s. Then, he takes a step back and pricks the body’s finger, tracing symbols around the pentagram in blood.

Yachi stands, and looks down in horror at the blood on the man’s chest and then she looks at Tanaka. “I didn’t think…” She begins, unsure, trying not to offend Tanaka probably. “That we’d need… well… black magic.”

The term is outdated, but he knows Yachi doesn’t mean harm by it; she’s so used to the light, bless her.

“We need to return his soul to him, it’ll be… easier with blood magic.” He tells her as softly as he can manage, although the hand he used to trace the symbols burns like a motherfucker. What did she do to this guy? “There may be complications, though.”

Yachi looks at him, very seriously. “Like what?” She asks.

Tanaka hesitates but Yachi is looking at him so sincerely he doesn’t want to hide anything from here. “There is a chance of things going wrong, but we can fix it, I promise.” He assures her and Yachi immediately softens. “I do need your blood though.”

She starts and then freezes, her eyes scanning his own in worry. “Why?” She asks, her voice wobbling.

“Bad blood leaves invisible wounds.” He tells her and Yachi winces.

“I suppose so.” She concedes, and then she steps towards him and holds out her hand.

Tanaka takes it gently in his and turns it palm up, she squeezes her eyes shut as he flicks a silver knife out from his ring and slices directly down her palm, shallow but enough to draw a thick drop of blood. He leads her to the body and squeezes her hand over it, watching a drop of blood drip into the middle of the pentagram.

Yachi pulls away and clutches her hand close to her chest, and Tanaka moves towards her again, pulling a plaster from his pocket and taking her hand again to gently smooth it over. She smiles up at him and then looks wearily towards the body and the needles next to it.

“What are the needles for?” She asks.

Tanaka makes a face and looks at the body. “The eyes.” Yachi immediately looks like she’s going to be sick, and Tanaka takes a step towards the body, plucking two from the pretty pumpkin pincushion as he looms over the body. “One in each should do it.”

As Tanaka peels back the eyelids and goes to puncture the eyelid, Yachi hangs onto his arm, her face filled with panic. “Do we really need to use needles?” She asks, breathless. “Can’t we just use a forgetfulness spell? Cloud his memory?”

“Needles are direct and affective.” He says. “Charms can wear off, and while his eyes will heal quickly, the oblivion will never fade.”

Yachi bites her lip and then slowly releases his arm. “Okay.” She says, as quiet as a mouse.

Tanaka tries not to feel guilty as he stabs a needle into each eye.

“What’s his name?” Tanaka asks as he gestures the book over, feeling pleased when it floats directly into his hands.

Yachi fidgets, curling a piece of hair around her finger over and over, her teeth biting down firmly on her bottom lip. She looks nervous, her eyes flitting back between the book and the body, and then she sucks in a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut. It hits him way too late that Yachi’s hesitation is meaning for something else; the power of words, of her own conviction – and it is his first mistake.

He can’t stop her in time.

“ _Taketora Yamamoto_.”

The door burst open, and the gust of wind that blows through it is cold and biting and snuffs out all the candles in one fell swoop. The plants and greenery, all Yachi’s herbs and flowers, curl towards the door and then wither and fall short, either retreating to their homes or dying on the spot, green leaves and vines a putrid brown. Yachi whimpers, Tanaka hears something scrape against the granite countertop and when he looks to her he sees a silver knife clutched in her hand.

Leaving no time for him to even wonder how she got her hands on something so… dark, the smell of sulphur fills the air around them, thick and hot and he has to stop breathing all together to stop himself from gagging.

He can feel her magic wavering beneath the pressure of something so… unnatural, and he watches as the bowl quivers in mid-air. He feels something around him release, like someone snapping a piece of strained elastic, and the bowl drops and crashes to the floor, shattering into a million crystal pieces and splattering the water all over their toes.

Yachi shrieks, bloody and pained, and he sees the place where the water has touched her leg raising up in a purple and blue bruise, her further cries when three sharp scratches appear on her arm. He grabs her by the arm just as Taketora snaps upwards and wraps his hands around her neck, squeezing so hard her voice is choked.

The needles are still stuck deep in his eyes.

“Let her go!” Tanaka roars, and the windows quiver at the force of it, but Taketora doesn’t let up. “I’ll ask you one last time!”

Taketora stops shaking Yachi horribly but continues to choke her, looking to Tanaka with a jerky movement. He can feel the panic building in is chest as Yachi grabs at Taketora’s hands with her own, her lips twinged blue.

“ _You_ .” Taketora says. It doesn’t sound natural, the voice or the inflection, he sounds like he was dragged underwater and shoved full with stones and is empty all at the same time, and his voice makes Tanaka wince and grind his teeth. “ _You… did this… to me! She…_ **_she did this to me_ ** _!_ ”

Tanaka glimpses the knife glinting in Yachi’s hand, the flat side of the blade swiping across Taketora’s knuckles. “One last chance.” Tanaka says.

Taketora just screams in rage and puts more force on Yachi’s wind pipe, and Tanaka retaliates by swiping the knife from Yachi’s hand and stabbing him directly through the heart and the middle of the pentagram. Yachi drops to the ground in a wheezing, choking pile as Taketora goes slack and falls back onto the table, the blood already beginning to ooze from his wound.

And Tanaka is on Yachi in an instant; he holds her chin up as she coughs and sobs into the cold air around them, she clutches onto his arm and her fingernails dig into his bicep but he doesn’t care so long as Yachi is alright and still breathing. Once she’s caught her breath he cups her face gently in his calloused hands and presses his forehead against hers.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He whispers deep into her skin. “I should’ve done something sooner… Yacchan…”

Yachi just croaks out a laugh and offers him a watery smile. “I’m alive, aren’t I?”

**_“Yes, and someone else is dead.”_ **

The room drops fifty degrees, and Yachi shivers as she leans close to Tanaka, gripping onto him as he stands with her. The kitchen is silent and dark, the only sound is of Yachi’s breathing, and on instinct Tanaka reaches for the knife embedded in Taketora’s chest.

 **_“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”_ ** The voice says, and Tanaka immediately draws back, his eyes scanning over the disrupted pentagram. **_“I’m here to help, offer my services to my master… If you can pay the price, that is.”_ **

Tanaka scowls. “Demon.” He spits and the voice laughs, the noise like a knock on oak wood, thick and rich and hollow.

 **_“That’s no way to greet a guest, my friend. Won’t you shake my hand?”_ ** From the shadows of the kitchen an eight-foot tall creature, willowy and made of pure shadow emerges and approaches Tanaka and Yachi, pausing just before them and offering its hand slowly, it’s fingers stretching outwards. **_“For old time’s sake, Ryuunosuke, what do you say?”_ **

“You know it?” Yachi asks, her voice nothing more than a whisper, curiosity overwhelming fear.

“Once.” Tanaka replies curtly, an arm wrapped around Yachi. “Leave, It.”

“ _It?_ ” Yachi squeaks, disbelieving. “But I… Ryuu, how do you know him?”

 **_T_** he creature parts it’s lips, silver fire glinting through in the place of teeth as it takes a step towards her. **_“Ryuunosuke and I… are old friends, comrades, and I helped him when he needed it most.”_ ** It says, and its grin stretches further, Cheshire, into the shape of a curling crescent moon. **_“Imagine my interest when I heard from him again, silver and blood… I couldn’t resist.”_ **

Yachi slowly steps around Tanaka and towards It, she tilts her head curiously at It. “Who are you here for?”

It reaches for her, it’s claw-like fingers skimming her chin delicately. **_“You, Yachi Hitoka.”_ ** It says, and it is so tenderly he says it that Yachi immediately relaxes. “ **_Your blood was spilled into the circle, and it is from your blood that I come. Your servant for a price.”_ **

She blinks at him. “Why?”

It reaches for Yachi’s neck, and she tilts her head up to allow it as its hands encircle the bruises curled around her like a necklace. It stays with her lips that for a moment and then removes its hands, drawing back as if burnt.

 **_“You were hurt for something that was not your fault.”_ ** It says hissing out the words through the flames in its mouth. **_“You were on the brink of death and I was brought from your despair, your sweet blood and your power, and I have a fondness for you, something I think I share with my friend.”_ **

Yachi looks to Tanaka, who looks back at her, speechless and distraught, and her façade shatters just a little as she flashes him a shaky smile. She’s so unpredictable, that girl, so… full of wonder, and he loves it.

“What would you offer to me?” She asks carefully, logically.

It considers her. **_“Protection, knowledge, a developing skill in the arcane_ ** …” It tells her, tilting its head at her. **_“My soul, my being, the ability to reap destruction is it so pleases you. Whatever you wish, my friend.”_ **

“What’s your price?” Yachi asks as she turns back to It.

Tanaka’s heart lurches in his chest as It grins.

 **_“When the time comes,”_ ** It begins, drawing closer to Yachi like a beast, crawling across the floor on its hands and knees like a four-legged, spindly spider, the fire flickers hot against her skin as it leans close. **_“You will owe me something and you cannot refuse. I don’t suppose I need to tell you what will happen if you refuse what is owed to me?”_ **

“No.” Yachi says firmly. “I think I can understand.”

Tanaka trembles. “Yacchan…” He says, it’s only her name but he knows it’s futile; when she is determined, she cannot be stopped.

It grins and then leans its face close to Yachi’s and opens its eyes. Yachi looks into them and can’t look away, galaxies and eyes of deep, dark red staring deep into her soul, Tanaka watches and wants to grab her, take her in his arms and protect her, but this is her choice.

 **_“Give me a name.”_ ** It says, low and rumbling.

Yachi stares blankly into its eyes. “Yuuji.” She says, clearly and firmly.

It – Yuuji – leans into to her lips and captures it with her own, she makes a surprised noise but then her eyes flutter shut as the spindly arms wrap around her, the entire body of the demon engulfing her until she is standing in the embrace of a man with wide, burnt wings, his lips locked with hers. He pulls back, smirking and turns to Tanaka as Yachi remains dazed. The person standing before him is Yuuji’s true form, the coal grey skin etched like stone, the eyes glowing as red as rubies at him, and he knows that whatever Yuuji wants he already has it.

Slowly, Yachi begins to come to.

Nothing about her has changed, but her soul is intertwined with Yuuji’s now. If he dies then she does, and vice versa. It leaves her less vulnerable to everyone except Yuuji himself, and the promise of his price leaves Tanaka on edge, but as Yuuji melts back into shadows and disappears Yachi turns to him and dashes into his arms.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers into him.

Tanaka smooths her hair and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “He has a way with words, but I promise you, Yacchan, no harm will come to you. I will protect you with my life and beyond it, as long as I remain in your memory.” He tells her softly, and then he reaches for the silver knife and presses the handle into her hand, the blade still dripping with blood. “If he tries to take something you can’t give up, use it.”

Yachi nods and clutches it to her chest, looking up at him so tenderly. “I love you.” She says, and then she kisses him so quickly and sweetly he almost thinks he dreamed it, but she is blushing in his embrace.

Enraptured, he leans down to capture her lips for longer, hoping his tongue swiping along her bottom lip cleans away the traces of demon on her, praying that his hands squeezing his waist and cupping her cheek and brushing along her neck smudge any trace of demon from her skin. He wants to be etched so deep in her that she can’t forget him, or get rid of him—if that’s what she wants, of course.

He’s infatuated with her hair, the twinge of rosemary and lavender on her skin, the freckles scattering her nose and the taste of peppermint tea in her mouth, the smell of rain and earth that surrounds her like a halo. He loves every part of her, down to how perfectly she fits in his arms.

“I love you too.” He whispers against her lips.

* * *

They bury the body in the hole Yachi tried digging, under the apple trees in the orchard, so deep that Yachi is sure he will never again rise to the surface. She lights a candle after and prays that nobody asks about Taketora’s disappearance; thankfully, nobody does.

When fall comes around, the crisp, cool air flowing through the trees of her orchard as she bundles up in thicker jumpers and clothes, the apples on the trees the body is buried under are rotten, festering with maggots and worms and Yachi gulps, gripping her basket tighter as she hurries in the other direction.

The spindly, black hand of a demon clamped around her neck.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: [ cherry-kirsch ](cherry-kirsch.tumblr.com) || twitter: [ cherriwrites ](https://twitter.com/cherriwrites)


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